


Loki's Aria

by uragani



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel AU - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Gen, Good Loki, Imprisonment, Loki Angst, Loki-centric, Mind Control, Punishment, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Soul-Searching, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:52:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uragani/pseuds/uragani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the first day, he regretted his actions. By the second, he regretted himself. || This story covers Loki's imprisonment, and later his role in the other movies after the Battle of New York from his perspective. Contains more soul searching than is needed, a man who is frankly a classy version of batshit, and lots of questions left unanswered. What else would you expect from Loki Silvertongue? Warnings, pairings, and rating subject to change as it's written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loki's Aria

I ache. It feels as though their monster has compressed every bone in my body, a new singularity borne from the pain of which I garner no fair release will be had. I ache, and I am exhausted, but my Brother still allows me to cradle that which I have fought for so hard. Only a handle to its container, but, he allows me to choose to hang on. Doesn't force me. He gives me a choice and it's in this I recognize he does not hate me. My brother does not hate me although he is angry. This is all I can bear to think as the... things I have entrenched myself in settle gleaming on the surface of my mind like oily blood.  
  
His hands are soft though tense as he settles the manacles in place, his eyes softer yet with worry and regret even as he fights his inner rage. The manacles shiver with light, settling closer against my skin with chill and runes lit bright. He's tender yet when his fingertips cradle my jaw bones to release the clasp of the muzzle across my face. The soft hiss and click echoes the sigh of my own breath, my eyes shift closed to hide the color. I know it's still wrong, they've been shifting back to green so slowly I am terrified that each time I glance in a reflection I will see the ice returned in full force rather than my own true nature.

"I'm sorry for what you have done Brother," Thor's apology graces his tone. I am boneless when I sink into his chest a victim of another of his bone crushing hugs. My hands raise, even enclosed in metal, and I cling to the front of his armor. Every touch begs him to stay, to protect me from everything that is to come.

"Don't be," the snarl in my tone is so false, but I can feel every inch he deflates. I can feel his bones and muscles shift down into the slack deference to losing. It hurts so much, my fingers tremble but the armor cradling them holds them steady enough to avoid his eyes. Blue, damn, my own brother could be controlled and I'd never know. He could take me where I stand and snap my throat before I realize anything is wrong. It shakes me, I am paranoid but am I paranoid enough to survive what is to come? I know they will expect me to answer for my crimes. My crimes, they are my own are they not? I did them, I midwifed them to fruition. I couldn't say otherwise.

When he steps back from me the chill that settles in my bones nearly causes me to fall to my knees. His hands catch my elbows, and I look up at him. Still controlled, still powerful, I promise him I will be fine with my every movement. He leads me to the state room, built to impress and intimidate those who entered. The imposing structure left nothing but chill and power behind as an impression when beheld. It's ostentatious and I will have none of it. I am prim and proper as he gives me a tender forehead kiss, and my breath only catches slightly when he gives me a mourning look as if he will never see me again. He's angry, I can feel it thrumming beneath his skin, but he knows he's lost me. Even I have lost me, it is no strange thing anymore.

I wait in solitude for only a moment before it seems the whole citadel is aware of my presence, and armored guards leak in. My mother is among them, my frail beautiful strong hearted mother Frigga. Her hair glimmers gold in the light, and I am fain in love with her presence. Her arms alight around me and she holds me close as I have oft remembered my childhood, and I struggle not to rest my forehead against her and simply breathe her in. I must be strong, so that she can remain strong for me. She looks into my very being with chin looped over shoulder, and I know she can see that I am slack beneath the outward appearance of apathy.

"I knew you would return," she whispers, and pulls back slightly. Her hand raises, cradling my cheek as Thor had done not long ago to unbind me from my muzzle. Those loving fingers linger and I lean into them fractionally, enough for her to know I am not dismissing her, but not enough for someone to know I am doing so. I do not want her taken from me if she is seen as something I love.

"Enough," Odin's voice rings out in the hall, and we both stiffen and step away from each other as if caught, "I would speak to the prisoner. Alone." His last statement rings a knoll that speaks of angry copper and blood. He means business, the guards in full armor attending him state such and the words sink it home. He is not pleased by my antics, I know I will soon be punished. I only hoped it would be physical as usual so that I could hide my scars as always.

Frigga senses the mood, and moves close for her final words, "Be strong." I know she tends to the Fates as close as kin, and knows things none other would. I take her advice to heart, looking Odin dead in the eye and standing resolutely. This is my cause, perhaps I did not do it consensually, but I would stand strong in my convictions. I will not cower from my punishment. I will take it as he wishes his Asgardians would; with the full brunt of my personality.

"I really don't see what all the fuss is about," I try to remain calm, but I sense that if I show force perhaps he will listen. A way out, my anger rises false in my face, every tense muscle a ploy for my security, "I intended to rule Earth with the same firm hand with which you rule all the nine realms. To show humanity the same mercy you've granted your opponents." My tongue gets away from me, I cannot help but barb my words against his favor, "And if given the chance, I might have even stolen a mortal infant and raised it as my own."

His tone rings across mine, causing me to drop my hands fisted in fictional rage, "Frigga clings to you like the mother of a drowned child, but she is too late to save you. The boy I knew is dead. What remains is a creature I do not recognize." It is like a slap to my face, I know my face reflects how I feel but this is too much. The man I called father for so many years has rid himself of me again. When I have done nothing but try to make him proud, to follow in his footsteps. He has shown me the way through his actions, and when I repeat them I am cast down and away. Told that I am no longer even a person in his eyes. I seek his approval, and instead he dashes me to the rocks and allows the sea to wash me away. How can he even have a conscience knowing what he does harms me so?

"Frigga is why you still live, but this was the last time you will ever see her," the tremble that spreads through my body, a shudder of revulsion sending the chains of my manacles into a frenzy of jingling before I pin them to my sides. He would kill me, the man who kidnapped me to be his own. He would cause my death through his own pride, his shame of what I have become through his tutelage, "Spend the rest of your wicked days in the dungeon," the sentence is for life but it isn't good enough for him, "Loki Laufeyson," the punishment is in the last of his words. He denounces me, as the son of the Giant I have murdered in his name.

The guards seize me, patient, almost timid knowing my power, but I am senseless. Everything stripped from me, even my family for actions Thor had been considered able to grow from, even if he had been exiled until he earned his place again. My eyes search the marble beneath my boots for something, some loophole. All I can think is that he did not ban Thor from visiting me, but the anger I had sensed in my adopted brother... He wasn't my brother anymore. My stomach does flip flops, and I close my eyes to hold back the tears that form. Odin had taken that from me as well.

**Author's Note:**

> This first part is based on the comic tie-in which was supposed be between Thor 1 and the rest of the mess. So everything but Thor's portion is verbatim (mostly because I didn't see that page till far too late.) From now on... I do what I want and play with everything in canon. I also like to assimilate the history of the original Loki of myth into my version of him, as a warning, so this isn't as purely Marvel as one might like. Hence the "Loki (Norse Religion & Lore)" tag being included. Enjoy!


End file.
